The Light of Dylora
by gublercullen
Summary: Kidnapped by Saruman & left to die, Drendithiel must learn to fight in the war that destroyed her kingdom. With the help of a couple of hobbits and a cautious Aragorn, will she ever be able to repair the damage the dark lord has inflicted? Aragorn/OC
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys! I'm back to writing, this time I've decided to take a chance and post one of my Lord of the Rings fictions. It's always been an intimidating prospect to me…the books are so well written and the films brilliantly produced, making writing a fanfiction an incredibly daunting experience!_

_I know that I have not written this fiction to a level as brilliant as Tolkien, but hopefully the story itself is enjoyable. _

_Please read and review, I always appreciate comments, just please keep in mind that I'm not J.R.R. Tolkien!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor do I own any of the LOTR characters or situations. I do however own my original character, Drendithiel. _

_Thank you! _

Chapter One

I had been sat in the cell for too long, the sound of battle echoing around the stone walls – slamming against the iron bars on the windows that were imprisoning me.

I had done my best to reach up to one of the windows to the outside, but I was too short. Not that I wasn't already aware of what was going on. Saruman's army was most likely tearing apart whatever god forsaken group had decided to battle with them. I stayed perched in the corner of the cell, my long brown hair matted with dirt as it hung to my waist in limp curls. I lifted my hand to the scar around my neck and sighed, it was beginning to ache. Each time Saruman cast an incantation that I had given him, invisible fire licked at my wound.

It was only as I sat there in silence – in pain, that I heard it…the quiet dripping of water against stone. My eyes lifted, I hadn't had water to drink since the last rainfall, and my mouth was dry and coarse. My eyes met with the trickling of water in through the window, immediately I began crawling weakly towards the liquid. The second it hit my skin I felt a surge of relief flood me. I lay by the cold wall weakly, my mouth open to the stream of cold water rushing in through the window. At first I was refreshed, happy knowing that I was hydrated enough to survive a few more days…that was until the water became heavier and heavier – to the point where I was struggling to get away from it.

I panicked, looking around the room to find that I was now entirely trapped, I had thought about dying – being in the situation that I was in, I had had no choice but to think about it…but I'd never imagined that I would drown in a prison cell. The water was pouring in now; it was soaking the bottom of my ragged dress and causing my feet to go numb. I tried to think but my mind was too clouded, I was weak and hadn't eaten or slept in days. I'd used up the last of my energy trying to use my powers to escape this place – clearly I'd failed.

In a last attempt to rescue myself, I began moving the hay bed towards the window where the water was entering, knowing I was to act fast if I wanted to survive, I climbed up the window, my arms sticking out in an attempt to get someone, anyone's attention. However, the flow of water was too strong and kept pushing me out of the way. I pushed my face against the stone wall, trying to get a mouthful of air before I began shouting.

"Help!" I yelled, hating how damsel in distress I sounded, "Can someone hear me!" I screamed again, gasping for air as the water reached my waist in depth. I swallowed a mouthful of water and fell back from the window in a coughing fit, my chest heaving in an attempt to expel the foul tasting water. I found it ironic that fifteen minutes ago I'd felt refreshed and relieved by this same stuff that was flooding my cell and probably about to kill me.

"Hello?" A small, confused sounding voice sounded from behind the water.

"I'm in here! I'm stuck!" I replied urgently, still clinging for dear life to the metal bars of the window, the feeling in my hands had long disappeared in thanks to the cold.

"Merry how do we get her out?" A worried tone filled the accented voice and I prayed that I wasn't about to get myself into even more trouble.

"There's a key in the warehouse downstairs, you'll have to be quick before the water destroys everything," I replied, praying that whoever was stood there could hear me. I gasped for more air, swallowed more water accidently and tried to convince myself I wasn't about to die.

"How do we get there?" Another voice asked.

"Door," I gasped, "To your left!" The water forced me back again, my feet were now completely off the ground, I was swimming in a concrete coffin, my heart beating so hard and my breathing so fast that I believed that my fear alone could kill me.

An eternity past and I believed I'd never get out. Fear trampled every part of me, the water floating me to the surface, my face almost pressed up against the ceiling that was once unreachable. I panted, desperately trying to breathe.

"Are you still there?" A voice sounded from the window once again, the noise was muffled by the flowing water that had no slowed to a mere background noise.

"Yes," I gurgled, my mouth half underwater, "Yes!" I yelled again for reassurance.

"We got the key," A small arm stretched through the bars of the window, it appeared small enough to be a child's, I couldn't help but hope that children hadn't been made to fight in the war.

I swam towards the window, the stone ceiling scratching at my cheek. I reached the window with great difficulty, my arms and legs were exhausted and I could barely bring myself to move another inch.

"Thank you," I whispered, my hand grasping around the child's.

I let go, keeping the key held tightly in my hand before taking a huge lungful of air and diving down into the water. With every last ounce of strength I had, I lunged myself towards the door. I reached the sturdy metal door and grabbed onto the handle so as to keep myself under the water. I fumbled with the key, slipping it clumsily into the lock and turning it. Suddenly, the second the door slipped away from the frame, the water that had filled the cell flooded out of the door and into the hallway in a mad rush. I clung desperately to the doorframe, noticing the sparkle of silver out of the corner of my eye. Weak as I was, I clambered back through the still hip depth water towards the sparkling amulet in the corner of the room. I slipped it into my pocket and weakly waded down the water filled hallway, gripping onto the walls at either side of me to steady myself.

Light from the doorway ahead of me blinded my eyes as I walked, I took a deep yet unsteady breath of fresh air as I exited the darkened hallway and into the flooded battlefield of Isengard. I collapsed heavily to my knees, letting out a dry sob of relief – I was finally free.

"Are you alright?" A voice sounded from in front of me. I looked up to see two small boys, both with wavy golden hair and kind eyes, staring down at me.  
>"Are you the boys that saved me?" I asked, only now realising how strained and croaky my voice sounded.<p>

"Depends, are you the girl from down there?" One of them asked with a curious smile.

"Yes," I sighed, "I am…thank you," I smiled as best as I could but the boys seemed to have already been unnerved.  
>"I know…" I began, staring down at the ground, "Do not feel distrust towards me, my scar is only a wound, not a label," I clarified in my most reassuring tone. I saw the boys still staring at the white, ghostly hand print wrapped around my neck.<p>

"Do you know where we could find some food?" One of the boys asked, I sighed with relief, revelling in the change of subject.

"I'm starving," The other added with a glum expression.

"As a matter of fact," I smirked, finally hoping that I could repay the boys that had saved my life and my sanity, "I know exactly where to find some food." I grinned, realising how hungry I actually was – I hadn't eaten in days.

As we walked towards the sheltered room filled with food, I let out a long breath, I was relieved…relieved to be free of Saruman, from evil, for now at least.

_So there we go! I hope you enjoyed it. I'm trying hard to stay away from the Mary Sue characters everyone complains about, but characters in LOTR are always going to have to live up to some kind of exciting back story! _

_I promise it gets better…_

_Please review and let me know what you think – but please, if you can't stand the story already, don't be mean, just don't read. _


	2. Chapter 2

_So here's chapter two, I know only posted a couple days ago but I've got about 5 chapters written in advance so I should be posting quite frequently. However I'm currently travelling around New Zealand (I'm literally exploring middle earth for myself!) So if I get stuck in a hostel with no internet, it could be up to a week until a post again…but that shouldn't happen for a while._

_Thank you to everyone who has read so far, I really appreciate it. However…I would love some reviews! Any feedback is good feedback._

_Thanks guys, and enjoy._

Chapter Two

We lay, sprawled out on the broken wall as the sun beamed through the clouds above us. A feast of food before us…more food than I had seen in weeks, perhaps even months.

"So why were you locked away in that room?" The boy I now knew to be a hobbit named Pippin asked me as he puffed on a long pipe.  
>"It's a long story…" I groaned, "One for another day young hobbit," I smiled.<p>

"Ah…I feel like I'm back at the Green Dragon, after a hard days work," He grinned, puffing on his pipe.

"Only, you haven't ever done a hard days work!" Merry, the other hobbit burst into laughter. It was then that we heard the sound of horse's. We all looked towards the sound to see four men of different races heading slowly towards us, cautious expressions on their faces.

Merry stood up with a grin, interrupting Pippin's reply to his previous insult, "Welcome, my lords, to Isengard."

I smiled with relief that the hobbits seemed to know these men, however I couldn't help but feel on edge; especially as the men looked me up and down cautiously.

"You young rascals! A merry hunt you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and…and smoking!" The gruff voiced dwarf shouted.

Pippin took another bite of bread before he replied, "We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well earned comforts," He smirked, "The salted pork is particularly good."

The dwarf's eyes softened reluctantly, "Salted pork?" He asked, everyone trying to stop themselves from giggling.

"Hobbits," The older man in a long white cloak shook his head apathetically, "And who is your young lady friend?" The man asked, the question had been posed to sound friendly…inviting, but I could sense there was worry in his curiosity.

I stepped down from the broken wall before the hobbits had time to answer, this was when they noticed the scar.

"She bares the mark of Saruman," The taller, dark haired man stated, his voice heavy with worry.

"I do not," I replied sternly, glancing over towards the man, "I bare a scar, etched into my skin by Saruman's hand. I bare it against my will. I hold no ties to him," I clarified.

"What's your name?" The older man asked again.

"Drendithiel of Dylora, daughter of Lord Urdrenn…"

"Dylora's kingdom fell months ago, all were considered dead, corrupted or enslaved," The old man replied.

"I was kidnapped by Saruman, he killed my mother and as far as I know, may have also killed my father and brothers. I am not corrupted."

The men looked unsure, until Pippin spoke up, "She's telling the truth Gandalf, we rescued her from one of the cells on the battle field." Their eyes moved from the hobbits to myself and back again.  
>"We should trust only known friends in these dark days," Another man spoke, his long pale blonde hair flowing straight down his back, a proud expression in his eyes.<p>

But it was the man in the middle that met my eyes before he spoke, "She may have knowledge that we don't."

I panicked for a moment, what information could I have that they needed?

"I know you shouldn't trust anyone unknown…but I assure you I have no desire to inflict harm. All I want is to try and find my family, to see if they're still alive," I stated, having to open up about my wishes wasn't something I enjoyed, I seen it as weakness.

"You say you're a lady of Dylora?" The same man asked, his dark hair dirtied and scruffy as it blew back in the cool wind.

"Yes," I replied quietly, "The truth is, I can hardly hold a sword and I don't have a horse or supplies or basically anything needed to survive," I laughed apathetically. Everyone stared at me for a few moments before I continued, "If you leave me here, I'll die of starvation before I get anywhere."

"I think she should stay with us," A small voice sounded from the broken wall where Pippin and Merry stood proudly.

"Me too," Merry agreed with Pippin's previous statement with a grin.

The others shrugged, all looking towards the old man I'd heard the hobbit address as Gandalf.

"You'll come with us to Rohan, from there you can decide your path," He clarified, his eyes showing his uncertainty, "But I'll keep a very close eye on you," Gandalf added.

"Thank you," I nodded, trying not to smile in relief.

I was put onto a horse with the dark haired man, my arms wrapped awkwardly around his waist as we rode to wherever we were going. It was only when the tall, dark tower came into view that my breathing froze and my grip tightened.

The man clearly noticed as he turned his head slightly to speak to me.

"You fear this place…it is no surprise," He said calmly, "How long were you held?"  
>I sighed, "Long enough to start calling my cell home."<p>

It was then that I jumped back, the huge ent strode towards us all, casting an intimidating shadow as he moved.

His voice was slow, deep and echoing as he conversed with Gandalf, everyone was silent as they listened.

"The filth of Saruman is washing away, trees will come back to live here…young trees, wild trees," The ent spoke.

It was only then that my eyes caught sight of the glittering object beneath the dark muddy waters. With a struggle, I clambered off of the horse I had been sat upon and waded through the water, my hand breaking through the surface and grabbing the spherical treasure.

I stared at what I clasped in my hand, so many times I'd witnessed Saruman using the palantir, it seemed different now, weaker.

"I'll take that my dear," A sturdy voice sounded from beside me and I turned to see Gandalf stood, his hand awaiting the palantir.

"It could be helpful," I said quietly, handing over the object, "It certainly helped Saruman." Gandalf stared down at me with a worried expression before moving back to his horse.

I turned back to the man whose horse I had been on the back of and stared up at him.

"He won't trust me easily, will he?" I questioned.

The man offered me his hand, I accepted and he pulled me up onto the animal with ease, "No. But once he does trust you…you'll have earned a true friend." With that, he kicked the horse to attention as we began riding towards Rohan.

"What is your name?" I asked, the wind rushing past my ears.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn," He replied, sounding almost hesitant.

I didn't know the name, so I nodded casually, allowing my aching muscles to settle into his back.

"Rest now," I heard Aragorn mutter as we rode onwards.

_So I hope that was okay for everyone, please, if you're reading this, give me a quick review just to let me know what you think. I'll begin editing the next chapter shortly and it should be up in a day or two._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much to the people who have reviewed/read/alerted/added to favourites! I really appreciate you guys taking the time to let me know what you think of the story, it's always awesome to see new reviews (:_

_I'm so glad you all think it's a little bit different, I've been working on getting the story right for ages!_

_Here's the next chapter, I hope you all enjoy and don't forgot to drop me a line to let me know what you thought of it._

_Thanks!_

Chapter Three

By the time we made it to Rohan the cool air had already awoken me. I'd stepped off the horse and onto the solid ground with a sense of awakening.

No more cell, no more walls to keep me trapped. I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath of fresh air…I could no longer smell death lingering in the wind.

"Come," Aragorn nodded towards me, the uncertainty must have shown in my eyes. I followed the group as they walked further through Rohan – towards the golden hall.

I had been shown to a room where I could clean up and rest for a few hours, the celebrations were soon to begin and I couldn't help but be nervous. I hadn't been to anything resembling a party in years, I felt slightly out of touch with the concept. Although, I had to admit that after a long awaited, peaceful sleep, I found myself excited about the prospect of getting ready. I spent time brushing out the long, dark auburn tangles in my hair – braiding it loosely over my shoulder. One of the maidens of Rohan had provided me with fresh clothing, I pulled on the flowing red dress, its heavy billowing sleeves detailed with fine golden thread. It was a far cry from the dirtied rags I had been wearing since becoming a slave of Saruman. I sat in front of the looking glass, staring at the beautiful fabric and the clean, refreshed appearance of my pale ivory skin and light green eyes…but still, the ghostly handprint wrapped boldly around my throat. I let out a sigh, my fingertips tracing the outline of the scar, forever I'd be reminded of Saruman's power over me.

The daylight past quickly into evening and soon the celebrations had begun. Music filled my ears from where I stood outside the hall, I couldn't help but be amazed by everything that lay before me. The idea that I could leave Rohan this second if I wished…the freedom was intoxicating.

I made my way back inside, the hall was lit up with candle light and the scent of food filled the air. A tap on my shoulder caused me to jump, I spun around to see Theoden, his eyes filled with upset.

"I was saddened to hear of your people, Drendithiel," He stated with a frown, "I hope that some day you find peace."

I bowed my head in sadness, "I lost my world the day Saruman's army invaded," I said, an ache thumping in my chest as I spoke, "My peace won't return until this war ends." That was when it came to me…perhaps I couldn't just be free. I wouldn't be truly free until the dark lord was no more.

I walked away from Theoden, still confused by what was supposed to come of me now, where was I supposed to go from here?

"You appear troubled." Another voice sounded and Aragorn walked over to where I was stood by the fire.  
>"I don't quite know where I stand," I paused, "This war destroyed me…does that mean I should give up whatever life I may have left, just to fight in it?" I stared into Aragorn's grey eyes, awaiting his answer.<p>

"Only you can decide your path, Drendithiel."

"Dren…call me Dren," I sighed, folding a lock of hair behind my ear.

"You told us earlier that you do not have the ability to fight, no sword training? Not even basics?" Aragorn asked.

"The women of Dylora were never required to learn, we had been considered a neutral kingdom for our entire existence. No battles ever took place on our grounds," I replied, saddened by what my world had become. Before Aragorn could speak again, my eyes had already started to water.

"I had family before this started, friends…a future. I was a royal woman of Dylora and now what am I?" I paused, "A woman who cannot fight to bring back the world that once existed."  
>"You can fight if your heart wills you to do so," Aragorn stated, his jaw tense and his eyes sincere.<br>"I am broken, sir Aragorn…I can offer only pieces of myself to this war and what use is that?"  
>"All people of war are broken, Dren. Hold your head like a warrior and people will believe you are one."<p>

"Is that what you do?" I asked, my lips twisting into a small smile.  
>He smiled, looked to the ground and laughed apathetically to himself, "If you decide to fight, I will help you as best I can, Dren."<p>

With that, he left me alone, the heat from the fire warming my face…so much so I barely noticed my tears anymore.

I kept to myself the rest of the evening, eventually the hall grew quiet with the sound of sleep, people strewn over the floor peacefully.

I paced the hall nervously before spotting Aragorn kneeling by the fire, rearranging the logs. I was just about to make my presence known but I noticed that he looked towards the sleeping woman on the daybed, her pale blue gown covering her. I hid behind the column and watched as Aragorn tended to her, making sure her gown was covering her ivory skin so as to keep her warm, her hand grabbed his before it could move away and they spoke for a few moments, too quiet for my ears. I admired the way he held her hand, kneeling beside her as she spoke, her eyes still heavy with sleep. I felt a deep pull in the pit of my stomach and turned away, glancing outside where the moon shone over the plains…a dark cloud flooded the sky in the distance and I shuddered.

I made my way quietly towards the room where the others slept, silently I began making myself somewhere to sleep…until a glimmer caught the corner of my eye. I turned, looking towards Gandalf, his eyes open in an eerie, unconscious stare – his arms wrapped carefully around the Palantir. I chewed nervously on my bottom lip, my palms sweating as I contemplated what to do next.

Carefully, I walked towards Gandalf, perching beside him I closed my eyes, opened my hands in front of me and spoke in a low whisper so as not to wake anyone.

"An chumhacht a thabhairt ar mhian liom mo lámh," _(Bring the power I desire to my hand),_ I demanded sternly. Moments later, the cool sensation of the palantir settled in my palms. I opened my eyes, rose to my feet and made my way across the room. The palantir awakened, just as it had done the last time I'd held it.

"Léargas a thabhairt dom,"_ (Give me insight) _I spoke into the glass, my eyes burning at the sight of Sauron. A voice wormed its way into my skull, causing a sharp pain to overtake my entire body, the flames of his words captured me and I collapsed to the ground with a scream.

"You cannot control my power, young Drendithiel, you will die trying," The voice echoed in my rib cage, causing my heart to beat quicker and harder.

"No…but I can see what you don't wish to reveal," I growled, ignoring the voices around me, the shouting and screaming faded into the darkness that swallowed me whole.

I was sent into a world that didn't look familiar, a burning city – a white tree, dead in a courtyard of stone. The world shook away and Sauron gripped onto me, his venom leaking into every pore, shaking each of my memories for information.

"You will not find what you seek, Sauron," I tried to scream as loud as I could, but no voice escaped my lips.

Another image replaced the darkness - my brothers, my father, they lay dead amongst the rubble of our now broken kingdom. Grief overcame me and I sent all I could outwards, a burning in my fingertips broke the Palantir free of my grip as hands clasped around my shoulders – throwing me backwards and crashing towards the ground.

The sound of shattering stone filled my ears and I let out the air that had been held painfully in my lungs, slowly my chest deflated, my head pulsing, my hands, arms and legs numb.

"You stupid girl! And we are to believe you are no enemy!" Gandalf scoffed, throwing his arms up in the air in fury.  
>"Are you hurt? Can you hear me?" A familiar voice asked, a hand placed on my face, forcing me to look into his eyes as I fell into an unconscious abyss.<p>

_There you go guys, let me know what you think! I'll update again in the next couple of days (:_


	4. Chapter 4

_Here's is the next chapter guys and gals, hope you enjoy it! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it's awesome!_

_I'm heading down to Wellington NZ tonight for a few weeks, so updates me be further apart but I'm hoping to stick to every couple of days._

_Keep reviewing, it inspires me to write and update quicker!_

Chapter Four

"Foolish hobbits! You should have never trusted her!" Gandalf's bellowing voice was the first thing I heard as I regained consciousness, my limbs ached with each movement. "We should have never trusted her," Gandalf added, looking towards the others. It took me a few minutes to realise they were talking about me.

I struggled to sit up, my head was spinning and I felt sick to my stomach. I clasped a hand over my mouth as I fell to the floor, my hands gripped at the side of one of the empty wooden barrels as I threw up the contents of my stomach. Exhaustion took over me and I slumped back down to the floor. Legolas moved to my aid, his hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me back up onto the makeshift bed I had been resting on.

"I can be trusted." My voice was quiet and broken.  
>"What proof have you given us so far," Gandalf spoke.<p>

"I might have no sword skills…no experience in battle," I spoke slowly, each word taking effort to pronounce, "But I know his plan. I know what happens next." With that, Gandalf exchanged glances with Aragorn.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you," I coughed, my chest felt like it was about to explode.

"Speak now," Aragorn stated, suddenly I couldn't bear to look him in the eye.  
>"I hold the mark of Saruman because he used me, my powers. I have a connection to him now…which means I have a connection to Sauron," I said, my teeth gritted in disgust.<p>

"Every plan he made, every thought, every idea…they are implanted in my brain…I never had a choice, he tortured me until I couldn't take it any more. I gave up every incantation I ever knew, I swore myself to him to save my life." A tear rolled down my cheek as the image of my family bloodied and dead, filled my mind.

"Should we feel sympathy for you?" Gandalf asked sternly.  
>"No…you should feel lucky," I laughed, wiping tears from my eyes, "Sauron shattered the Palantir because he knows I can control it. I know every trick he has up his sleeve."<p>

"Everything is important," Aragorn said, looking over to Gandalf.

"Come, you will tell me everything you seen," Gandalf ordered, true authority in his tone.

I nodded obediently, doing my best to stand up. Legolas, who was standing at my side, helped me to my feet and we followed Gandalf out of the room and into the main hall; Aragorn and Gimli walking behind us.

I was sat down at the table, a cup of water put into my hands; the burns on the palms of my hands made holding it difficult but the cool temperature soothed the pain.

"The dark lord worries…" I began; staring towards Gandalf's hardened expression.

"He worries that men are no longer as weak as he first presumed, the outcome of the battle ahead isn't clear to him anymore. He's intimidated, frightened. Sauron worries that men will reunite against him, join forces in an army set to destroy him." My eyes locked with Aragorn's, "He knows that the Heir of Isildur has come forth," I paused, "It seems I'm not the only one keeping secrets…your majesty," I smirked, a difficult expression to force in my tired state.

"I witnessed the white city fall," With that I had Aragorn's undivided attention, "If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan has to answer…you must be ready for war, Theoden."

I felt as if I'd delivered the news that everyone had been waiting for and I collapsed back into the chair, looking up towards the ceilings of the great hall.

"What do we owe Gondor?" Theoden asked, directing his question towards me.

"I will go!" Aragorn stated firmly.

"No!" Gandalf reciprocated.

"They must be warned!" He replied.

"They will be." Gandalf walked over towards Aragorn and I had to pay close attention to their low voices to hear what was going on.  
>Gandalf continued, "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road, follow the river…look to the black ships," He paused and glanced towards me, "Understand this, things are in motion that cannot be undone, I ride for Minas Tirith alone…keep a close eye on her. Listen to everything she says with caution, Aragorn." I turned away from the conversation just as Gandalf exited the hall.<p>

"I'll have someone tend to your wounds," Aragorn said, glancing towards the burnt palms of my hands as he passed.

I sat in the same spot for what felt like an eternity before someone tapped me gently on the shoulder. A woman made her way in front of me, sitting down in front of me with a slight, almost awkward smile.

"I brought supplies, for your wounds," She said, setting a small wound kit down beside her. "May I see?" She asked politely, instantly I recognised those kind eyes, the woman that I had seen talking to Aragorn.

I smiled in an effort to calm her nerves, laying my hands palm-up in front of me. The burns had begun to dry and scab, but they were still painful – the skin red and raw.

"I'm Dren," I smiled, perhaps a slightly false expression considering how I felt inside.  
>"Eowyn," She replied with caution before continuing, "I was sorry to hear of what happened to your people." I swallowed heavily and looked down towards the ground.<p>

"Just like that," I shook my head, "A whole Kingdom destroyed."

Eowyn looked to me sympathetically before she spoke, "Perhaps you'll be reunited with some of your people some day, surely not all them are gone."

"As far as anyone knows, none of the Dylorian people have survived the carnage. If anyone did…they're being suspiciously silent about it."

"I was told tales of your father when I was a child," Eowyn smiled nostalgically, conveniently changing the subject, "He was a brave man."

Sadness overwhelmed me and my hands clenched around the bandages that were covering them.  
>"I know a man that reminds me a lot of those tales," Eowyn said, her voice low and filled with an emotion I couldn't quite comprehend, I followed her eyes across the hall to where Aragorn stood in deep conversation with Theoden. I had a feeling it wasn't Theoden that Eowyn was talking about.<p>

"You love him?" I asked quietly.

"He is a noble man," She replied, packing the bandages away and standing up, "I hope you find your place in this battle, Drendithiel." And with that, she walked away, leaving me to ponder what it was that I was really supposed to do.

What part was I to play in this world?


	5. Chapter 5

_So here's the next chapter, I hope it was worth the wait! As I said at the beginning of the last chapter, I'm touring around New Zealand at the moment, doing all the Lord of the Rings tours! So if it takes me a few days to update the story, that's why…but please read and review!_

Chapter Five

I stared at the sword, my brow furrowed in confusion. I picked it up with two hands, wavering a little with the weight. It wasn't long until my arms started to shake, I did my best to swing it around as if aiming to swipe someone behind me…but I was brought to a sudden standstill.

The sword came into contact with the table, getting entirely stuck in the old, worn wood. I bit down on my lip as a couple of the men in the hallway stared back towards me.

"Sorry," I apologised, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"I see you're getting to grips with your sword," Aragorn stated with a smirk as her crossed the room towards me.

"I'm sorry…I told you I hadn't held a sword before. It was surprisingly heavy," I laughed nervously, folding a lock of hair behind my ear.

"That's because you're holding your hands too close together," He replied knowingly. His rough hands gripped the handle of my sword and pulled it out of the table with ease. He placed it down before nodding towards me to pick it back up.

"Now be careful," He said, moving my hands into the correct position, "Better?"

Surprisingly, it did feel better – my grip on the sword tightened a little and I nodded.

Aragorn reached for his own sword, bringing it an instant collision with my own, I jumped back, the sword falling from my hands in shock."Sir Aragorn, I hate to sound like a spoilt maiden out of her element but did you really think I was ready for a sword fight with you?" I questioned sternly, my voice had suddenly gone a little higher and I cleared my throat in an attempt to go back to my normal, sane sounding self.

Aragorn laughed for a moment before I picked my sword back up and stood anxiously in front of him.

"Pay attention, don't let your grip falter," He said before he brought his sword against mine again, this time not as heavily. Instead of panicking, I tried to keep calm, moving my own sword to block his. It would have been more difficult had Aragorn not been moving his sword at a child's pace.

"Better," He soothed, continuing to come at me with the weapon.

"Not really," I mumbled as the sword came into contact with his again, this time sending it to the floor for the second time.I growled in frustration, "I'm never going to be able to do this," I shook my head.

"We've only been at this for a few hours, Dren," Aragorn replied, "Being able to handle a sword takes time, patience."

"I wouldn't be this useless if we'd been allowed to train in Dylora," I shook my head, "What harm does learning these skills inflict? We would still be considered neutral…" I frowned walking outside of the hall, I needed fresh air.

I stood outside, looking out over the plains as the dark cloud spread through the sky, getting closer and closer.

"I know that being angry at my father will get me nowhere," I stated, feeling Aragorn's presence behind me.

He stayed silent and I continued, my eyes stinging with unwanted tears, "I will not be able to learn how to wield a sword, sir Aragorn," I clarified, "I must learn to wield something else." My voice quietened at the realisation.

"What is it that you speak of?" He questioned.

"I must return to Dylora's gates."

"It is suicide, Drendithiel. These lands are overrun with the enemy, it wouldn't be allowed," He replied and I instantly turned to look him in the eye.

"I'm the heir to a throne that no longer exists, I have not seen my land I months, close to years. I may find something that could help."

"Saruman's armies took everything they thought would help their fight in this war…whatever is left, it isn't worth dying for." Sympathy filled his eyes and I struggled to come to terms with what I had to do."It will take me a day to ride to Dylora from here. The armies will not sense my movement, I will be careful." With that I made my way towards the horse stables.

"Drendithiel…" Aragorn called and I turned to face him."I must do this. For my own sanity if nothing else," I replied.

"I understand…but I told Gandalf I would keep a close eye on you," He paused, clearly battling with his decision, "I'll come with you."

I laughed with surprise, "These people need you here, and you must do what is best for them."

Aragorn stared towards the ground and nodded, for a moment I thought he would actually let me leave…I was wrong.

"We ride for Dylora before sunset," He turned and made his way back into the hall, leaving me to ponder my decision.

Whatever was left of Dylora…I didn't care, in fact – I knew that all that would be left is wasteland and bare, broken buildings. My home had been broken, that didn't mean I couldn't salvage whatever was left behind…the ashes of my beloved, sacred lands.

Aragorn had been right, the scent of death and danger was thick in the air. We rode fast and in silence, having packed only entirely necessary supplies. The people of Rohan hadn't been pleased about Aragorn's sudden departure but he had promised them that he would return within a few days and hopefully, I'd find something in Dylora that would be of great use to the war. Perhaps I wouldn't need to use my terrible combat skills after all…then again, I felt I was possibly being slightly hasty.

Hours passed and soon the sun had fallen beneath the mountains and the land had grown dark. Aragorn suggested we set up camp for the night and continue our journey at sunrise. He lit a fire and soon enough, I was huddled in front of it, trying to clear my head of whatever thoughts were harassing me.

"Here, drink this," Aragorn broke me free of the silence I was trapped in and passed me a flask filled with water. "You need to keep your strength up," He continued, his eyes appearing entirely exhausted."When was the last time you slept?" I laughed, sipping from the flask."It feels like an eternity," Aragorn replied, shaking his head."My people have a special name for people who worry, you know," I smiled to myself. "They do, do they?" He mocked, poking at the fire, causing a cloud of ash and dust to rise from its brightly coloured flames.

"Yes…stupid." With that, Aragorn looked up at me and for a moment, I thought that I'd have to apologise…until the lightest sound escaped his lips – true laughter…just for moment."Rest Drendithiel," He stated.

"I will if you start calling me Dren," I replied, lying my head down on the make shift last words I heard as I drifted into a care free sleep; "Sleep well, Dren."

A dream overcame my peaceful slumber – the dark navy mist still flooded the sky and I felt myself being pulled in all directions…I couldn't escape it. Whatever it was, it wanted me, it knew that I was important. More important that I had been led to believe.

"Ni feidir leat a bheith orm," _(You can't have me)_ I whispered to whatever was trying to taint me – steal me. My head filled with thoughts that didnt belong to me, pictures flashed in the forefront of my mind and no matter how hard I struggled, there was no way to escape.

"Ni feidir leat a bheith orm!" I repeated, more sternly this time. The image of my father and brothers, lying dead on the ruins of Dylora, flooded my mind and I wanted nothing more than to scream until my lungs couldn't take it anymore.

"Yes I can, Drendithiel," A cold, piercing voice tore at my ears and I tried desperately to escape.

"I took your mother, just like I tainted the rest of your family…just like I'm going to take you, little, weak Drendithiel." I couldn't stand the voice anymore, I tried to scream out but the nightmare was impossible to escape. The dark lord was impossible to escape.

"I'll have you, when I want you, child." A scream clouded all that was left of my conscious thought, the nightmare faded away with the shrieking voice of Sauron and soon I felt firm hands shaking at the shoulders, throwing me up into a fearful frenzy.

I clambered back from where Aragorn was knelt beside me, coughing and gagging in an attempt to dispel the foul taste in my mouth and lungs but it clung to everything. "It was just a nightmare, Dren," He soothed, his hands held in full view so as not to frighten me.

If only I could explain to Aragorn that it wasn't him I was frightened of, I wasn't even sure if it was Sauron I feared…I had an awful feeling of dread in the deepest pit of my stomach that told me that I was scared of the one thing I couldn't destroy.

Myself.


	6. Chapter 6

_So here's the next chapter for you guys, I hope everyone is enjoying it - I would reaaaally appreciate some reviews though, they inspire me to keep writing and so far I haven't gotten much feedback for the last couple of chapters!_

_Enjoy! _

Chapter Six

We rode towards Dylora in a cautious silence. Aragorn didn't want to ask…and I didn't want to tell him. My dream had put me into a blind panic, I needed to find a way to separate myself from Sauron, he wanted me for something – whether it was for his own enjoyment or something more serious, I wasn't sure yet.

Aragorn's voice broke me out of my daydream, "I haven't visited Dylora's land since king Niran was in power," He smiled nostalgically and I turned to face him in shock.

"That was my great grandfather," I looked towards him wide eyed, "You knew him?"

"He was very accommodating, I stayed in Dylora for some time when I was a boy."

"No one really talks about him anymore…or at least, they didn't before the kingdom was destroyed," I spoke, "They were always too busy talking about king Gowann, how he would turn everything around. It was only myself, my father and my brothers who knew the truth…" I laughed.

"And what was the truth?"

"That king Gowann never knew what he was doing," I smiled and Aragorn couldn't help but join me."My father would have been a better king," I paused a moment before continuing, "But even if Gowann stepped down, there was never a chance that my father would step up to the throne."

"Why was that?" Aragorn asked, sounding genuinely interested.

I sighed, trying to think of the best way to put my reply, "My father was an adventurer, he was too young at heart to settle down into a throne, he would've put one of my brothers into that position instead."

"Your brothers, how many do you have?"

"Had," I corrected solemnly, instantly regretting it, I tried to resume the conversation, "Four, Morven, Osric, Selmar and Lycoris," I said before the horse I was on came to a sudden halt and I glanced away from Aragorn and faced the front, my heart came to a standstill, my hands began to shake and for a moment I thought that I might collapse.

I climbed down off of the animal and walked over the charred ground, towards the shattered wall. One side of the grand white gates had fallen to the ground, the other half hanging on by a mere thread. Tears ran down my cheeks as I took in what was left of my city, my home.

"There was never anything you could have done to change this, Dren," Aragorn sounded behind me.

"Wasn't there?" I asked, my eyes meeting with Aragorn's.

We walked through the ruins and into the thick of where it all happened. The houses lay abandoned, most of them crumbling to the ground. The walkways that once had been built of clean white stone were dirtied and overgrown with weeds. I continued walking towards the tower, once the central focus of the entire city – it was greying and abandoned…it reflected the dismay that Dylora had seen.

I ran towards it's heavy wooden doors, rushing through the stone and scattered belongings.

"Dren!" Aragorn called after me, the sound of his footsteps following close behind me.

The doors came into view, or at least, where the doors used to be. I made my way up the stairs of the tower towards where the king's quarters used to be. I reached the huge hall in no time, the throne was destroyed, lying in pieces on the floor.

"There is nothing here for you to salvage, Drendithiel," Aragorn said, sounding slightly out of breath from running after me.

I turned to face him, the sincerest to emotions filled my eyes and I stayed silent before walking over to one of the heavy metal candle sticks strewn in the middle of the floor. I walked straight over to the wall behind the throne and brought the heavy metal into contact with the stone.

"Dren!" Aragorn called but I ignored him again, once, twice, three times I brought the metal crashing down upon the sturdy looking stone.

"This is helping no one, Dren," He stated, his voice sounding a little kinder this time round. I supposed to him it looked as if I was having a nervous break down…in reality, this wasn't the case.

I threw down the candle stick and pressed my hand against the stone, closing my eyes and trying to concentrate on what I was doing.

"Ta me sa bhaile anois, saor in aisce doibh," _(I'm home now, free them,) _I said, another of those unwanted tears flowed down my cheek. I had never wanted to have to do this but everything this city had worked to create was dead.

"Dren…" Aragorn said, panic in his voice as the room began to tremble, "Dren this place will fall whether we are in it or not, we must leave."

Then it happened, the stone beneath my hand crumbled, the room gave another two or three trembles, but soon enough, my hand was holding onto nothing but dust.

I looked over to Aragorn, trying to calm his nerves, "Dylora's buildings were built with souls, Aragorn, the tower won't collapse whilst we are still here. It's waited for me this long, it'll stay standing for a few more moments," I smiled but he still appeared cautious, "Trust me."

With that I reached my hand into my pocket, pulling out the small, delicate necklace I had rescued from my cell back in Isengard. Saruman would be kicking himself if he found out just how important this little charm was. I laughed to myself at that thought.

I pressed the necklace on top of the box lying in the dust filled hollow of the wall, a quiet click and creak sounded and I knew then and there that my efforts had been successful. I hadn't let my father down, I had remembered everything he'd said.

"Can you help me?" I asked, reaching inside the wall in an attempt to pull down the remains of the stone. Aragorn walked over to me before he spoke, "Cover your eyes," He instructed and I did as he asked, shielding my eyes as he kicked down the remaining stone wall.

I looked back, waving the dust away from my face before I pulled out the heavy wooden box."And you said they took everything worth taking," I smirked, opening the lid of the box. "What is this?" He asked as I pulled out the first of the packages.

"Dylora may have been neutral…we may not have been trained for battle or prepared for it…but that doesn't mean that we weren't heirs to something very, very special," I smiled, "The Valar placed a lot of these things into our care because they knew we had no wish for war," I paused allowing Aragorn to think for a moment.

"You're a descendent of the Valar," It wasn't a question…but a recognition. For a moment I seen his legs twitch as if he were thinking about kneeling before me, but I laughed.

"A very, very distant descendent, Aragorn," With that I opened up the box the first object was in, the red velvet surrounded the black, beautifully etched horn.

"I believe that I have something to aid you in your war, Sir Aragorn," I smiled as Aragorn stared down at the horn.

"The valaroma," He whispered, the word barely escaping his lips.

"If you wish to distract Sauron, this is how you do it," I said before continuing, "This will signal to all of middle earth that war has begun on the servants of Morgoth," I paused for a moment, "Just one downside."

Aragorn frowned and I let out a long breath, "It's my horn, now at least. So it turns out you do need me, whether I can use a sword or not," I smiled.

I pulled the next object out of the box and frowned as I opened it's container, "The Angainor," I said, trying not to sound confused.

"This was a gift to me on my 18th birthday," I laughed, looking up towards Aragorn, "Needless to say, I never mastered the art of the oppressor."

"You have little time to learn," Aragorn stated, examining the long, metal rope. It was beautiful, shining an emerald green beneath the dimming light of the throne room.

"This is the same type of chain that the Valar used to capture Morgoth," Aragorn said, his fingers running over the chain, "Any servant of his won't be able to stand it anywhere near them."

"Wonderful," I smiled, my eyes meeting with Aragorn's for a moment too long. It was only then that I realised how close we were, so much so that I could feel his warm breath against my hair.

"We should return," Aragorn stated, stepping back from me.

"We should," I replied, struggling to find reason in my reply. I packed everything back into the box and fastened it with the use of my necklace.

Myself and Aragorn carried the chest back towards the horses, he tied it securely onto my horse and looked back over the land.

"We should make it back before sunset, if we are fast," He said, but his voice faded into the background as I stared back towards Dylora.

"An chuid eile anois, la amhain beidh me ar ais chugat," _(Rest now, one day I'll return to you)_ I whispered, the wind blew my voice over my city. The city that was forever lost.

I dreaded returning to Rohan, the contents of the box behind me soothed my worries only temporarily...still there was a few things that would need to be revealed to Aragorn if he were ever to trust me fully...it just depended on how willing I was to sacrifice his safety.

_Soooo, hope that was okay for you and not too Mary Sue-ish, I always find it difficult getting the balance right, sometimes I struggle to stop myself before I get too carried away - but I like this chapter, so hopefully all of you will too. Please review if you have read, even if it is just to demand the next chapter! _


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry for the wait guys! Been busy the past week or so, but here it is - the next chapter. Remember to review and let me know what you think._

Chapter Seven

We were moments from Rohan when the light caught the corner of my eye, a sparkling glimmer in the distance. I frowned, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I brought my horse to a halt before I spoke, "Aragorn," I began and he turned his horse to face me, following my line of sight until his own eyes widened.

"The beacons are lit," He whispered to himself."Gandalf succeeded," I smiled, kicking my horse to attention, we both road quickly towards Rohan.

Aragorn dived from his horse as soon as we arrived, running towards the hall and bursting through the doors, I heard his voice bellow from inside, "The beacons of Minas Tirith," He paused as I walked up the stairs and through the open doorway."Gondor calls for aid," Aragorn added.

There was a long silence as Theoden looked to his men, his eyes moved towards me before he finally returned to Aragorn.

"And Rohan will answer! Muster the Rohirrim," Theoden stated sternly before exiting the room swiftly, passing out orders to his men as he went. I placed a gentle hand on Aragorn's shoulder and he turned to face me, a look of relief on his face…but fear filled his eyes.

"This is the beginning. Defend Gondor, defend your city, you have many men behind you now," I smiled reassuringly.

Somehow, Aragorn didn't look convinced, "The men are few, not enough. I am leading these men to a losing battle," He sighed.

"So little faith," I smiled again, looking up towards him, "I shall go prepare my things," I stated, turning to leave Aragorn to his own duties, but he brought me to a halt.

"Dren," His voice sounded and I turned back to see his brow furrowed as if in deep concentration, "I don't believe you're ready to ride with us." Now it was my turn to frown.

"What exactly do you mean?"

"You aren't ready for this," He replied.

"I thought if I held my head like a warrior…I could be one?" I asked, using Aragorn's own words against him.

"Dren," He said again and instantly I was incredibly angry at the way his voice caused my stomach to clench with nerves."I'm going," I stated before walking away.

It was only as I was preparing my horse that someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, expecting to see Aragorn, but instead Theoden smiled sympathetically down at me.

"I know only one reason a woman of Dylora would choose to fight," He stated, "You are just like your mother." It wasn't a light hearted statement, I knew exactly what Theoden was getting at."More so than most expect," I replied with a nervous laugh, "You understand why I have to go? There's a chance I could save enough people on the battlefield to give us a chance at actually winning."

"Drendithiel…" Theoden shook his head and I felt a sense of disappointment, "You'll kill yourself trying, it killed your mother…what makes you believe your fate will differ?" It pained me to hear Theoden's voice so sincere with worry.

I glanced towards where Aragorn was stood, talking to Eowyn, Theoden followed my line of sight and sighed.

"Does he know?" He questioned.

I looked back towards Theoden before replying, "No, I hold no ties to him, he need not know."

"He leads us into battle, Drendithiel, you owe him honesty." Perhaps Theoden was right…I didn't know.

I opened up the box I had brought back from Dylora, gathering few of the things into the bag strapped tightly to my chest. I wrapped my mothers necklace around my neck, pressing the metal lightly to my lips before letting it sit on my collarbone…already I could feel my scar burning, I could sense that this was going to be difficult – fighting for the side opposing that of which I'd been branded for. I closed my eyes and let out a long, slow breath. I wrapped the Angainor Chain around my arm, jumping slightly at the metal sculpted itself to my skin, gripping of its own accord. The original chain had been used to bind Morgoth for all eternity…this was merely the same alloy, however, it seemed to give off a sense of age, wisdom and a hell of a lot of power.

I allowed the chain to sit around my bare arm, not attempting to move it, before I walked my horse towards where the army was stood. A voice rung out amidst the commotion and I listened intently.

"Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan. Oaths you have taken. Now fulfil them all, to Lord and Land!" He called over the crowds, enthusiastic, hopeful riders raised their arms in salute before the horse began running across the plains, towards battle.

Camp was filled with nervous men, frightened horses and an eerie silence. I dismounted my horse and crossed the site in the hope of finding somewhere quiet to train. Even a few extra hours of practice may aid me, if I had any hope of surviving battle, I needed practice.

I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate, my sword felt heavy in my hands and I struggled to move it. As I attempted to move the sword, it jumped from my hands, the Angainor chain still wrapped around my arm began to unravel itself, targeting itself towards the ground – it whipped like the most ferocious of beasts, breaking apart the stone and soil beneath it. I jumped back, grabbing the chain so as to stop it moving.

"Angainor metal…they say it's forged by angels," A voice behind me caused me to jump yet again, a nervous energy filled me. I spun around, chain gripped between my fingers, my eyes settled on a man I didn't recognise. With his long dark hair and wise eyes, he intimidated me - it felt as if his eyes were analysing every last detail of my being.

"Who are you?" I asked bluntly.

"A friend of your ancestors. A friend of Dylora," He replied, his voice as smooth as honey.

"I apologise, you frightened me, sir," I stated, trying to sound more comfortable…but I had a feeling this man could sense my worry.

"I knew Lady Estel, your mother," He smiled wistfully and I frowned, "You look just like her."

"My father always said how much I looked like her," I replied, "He told me I was the one of his five children that took after her gentle appearance," I laughed, trying to keep track of what I was saying so as not to endanger myself further.

"Ah, yes," The man began, "Your brothers are very strong men, bred for fighting. Ironic considering the rules of Dylora."

"Indeed," I paused, saddened at the thought of my family, "What do you want?"

With that, his expression grew far more serious and I couldn't help but nervously hold my breath in waiting for his reply.

"A message from your mother brings me to you," The man now had my full attention.

"My mother is dead," I stated "She died when I was just a girl, many years ago," I added, my eyes wide as the heat seemed to vanish from my skin.

"She lives in the land of the light bearers, this is true. She left me this message just after your birth. She always knew this day would come, where I would have to deliver such news."

"Tell me," I demanded.

"You carry the burden of the light bearer, as did she, the light of Dylora runs through your blood like none other," He paused, his eyes burying themselves deep in my own, "Are you as angelic as you lead everyone to believe, Drendithiel?" He asked and the question caused me to grow even more nervous.

"I have never branded myself angelic, sir," I replied, my hands clenching into fists.

"Dylora did," The man added, "You were named Drendithiel Valarian were you not?"

The man was correct, but his deep insight into my history only caused me to grow more uncertain of his motives.

"The daughter of kings, your birth was written into history years before your parents existed."

"What do you want from me?" With that the man nodded, walking over to me, he placed his hand on my throat, his fingertips tracing the scar wrapped around my neck.

"I want you to follow in your mothers footsteps, fear not what has been said in the past. You must learn from your mothers mistakes and conquer whatever temptation this burden might bring to you," He paused before continuing.

"Your mother told me to warn you of your past. As light runs through your veins, so does darkness."

"You speak in riddles that I do not understand."

"Just trust me when I tell you to be careful. It's Valarian blood in your veins, this gives you options. Make the right choices." The man took one more glance towards the Angainor Chain wrapped around my arm and smirked, "You are half way to a warrior already."

My eyes left his for only a second, but by the time I looked up to question him again, he was gone, leaving nothing behind to prove that he had ever existed…or that the conversation had ever happened.

I sat down on the rocks near my feet and allowed my fingers to trace the chain that held onto me so tightly. An ache filled my stomach, a heaviness settled on my shoulders and suddenly, I wasn't so sure I was ready to fight…I wasn't ready to be a warrior.

_Review, review, review!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hellloo again everyone! Thank you for the feedback I have received so far, keep it coming - I really appreciate it! Here's the next chapter, as always, if you read this, please review! It gets m updating much faster. _

Chapter Eight

After the man had disappeared, I had walked back towards the camp. I made my way over to my tent, entering only to find that there was a figure stood there, he was staring down towards the box of things I had brought back from Dylora.

I'd have felt far more frightened had I not recognised the broad shoulders and dark hair sweeping his neck.

"Aragorn?" I asked, frowning. He turned, his brow stern."There is not enough men," Aragorn stated.

I walked further into the tent, crossing my arms protectively around myself, "Theoden talks of more men to come, you can surely draw hope from that."

"It will not be enough," He sighed; I found myself drawn to the prospect of comforting him, but just couldn't bring myself to do it. Suddenly, a sharp pain pulled at my throat and I instinctively lifted my hand to my scar. "You grow pained in the shadow that Sauron casts over these lands," Aragorn said, his voice sounding less pained and more sympathetic.

"Sometimes it burns, other times I can just feel it…clawing at my skin," I replied, "Does it disgust you?" I wasn't too sure where the question had come from, it had just fallen from between my lips.

Before Aragorn could answer, I jumped in, "I pardon myself." I shook my head, laughing nervously, "I am anxious, I have never been so close to war before."

"I understand," Aragorn replied, "I received news that a fleet of ships is sailing from the south," My heart sunk with his words and I struggled to speak."I will travel into the mountain, there are those that lurk there, they may be able to help."

"It is suicide," I frowned, "And you cannot leave these men behind, you must lead them into war like you promised." I found myself growing more and more agitated with each word.

"Drendithiel." My name slipped from his lips and I felt my heart beat just a little harder - I did my best to ignore it.

"It is Drendithiel Valarian of Dylora - land of the angels and daughter of ancient kings and I refuse to be spoken to like I am a child," I stated, the sternest of tones in my voice, my hands clenched into fists. "You will not abandon these men in pursuit of an army of thieves and murderers. Those that lurk in the mountain will not listen to you." I felt my anger settling in my chest and I began to grow embarrassed about my outburst.

Aragorn however, didn't look amused, "They will answer to the king of Gondor," He said quietly, his grey eyes meeting mine as his hand pulled the sword at his hip from its hilt. The silver gleamed with elvish writing in the firelight.

"Perhaps we are on equal grounds now," I laughed slightly, still staring at the sword as he re-sheathed it, "My royalty no longer trumps yours." I smiled.

"You are a noble woman, Dren," He said quietly, "I must ask that you turn from war, reconsider your actions and leave this place." His voice was so sincere that it burned in the back of my mind.

I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling incredibly on edge. This was my chance, my chance to show him the good that I could do - to show him how much I could help - to prove that I wasn't just a useless pawn.

Aragorn watched, confused as I walked over to my bed, pulling a knife from beneath the makeshift mattress. I made my way back over to him, taking his dirtied hand in mine. My eyes glanced up to meet his and he frowned, my hand lingered in his for just a moment.

"Trust me," I said in a soft whisper.

"With my life," He replied, his statement taking me aback for a second.

I pressed the knife into the palm of his hand, crimson began to stain the aged lines that dressed the skin as Aragorn flinched just momentarily.

I threw the knife back down onto the bed and clasped his hand tightly in both of mine, I closed my eyes, revelling in the warmth of his rough skin as I did my best to concentrate.

I felt myself begin to fall into him, I brought his hand closer to me, so much so that he was pressed up against me. The warmth spread to my fingertips, to my forearms. It surrounded me, turning into a gentle heat to a soft burn, I winced and instantly opened my eyes. Aragorn still stared down at me with a confused expression.

Without speaking a word, I opened my small hands around his, I unclenched his fist, parting each finger from the palm of his hand gently. I could already feel the exhaustion tickling at my consciousness and I let out a quiet sigh as I showed him the clean skin that covered the palm of his hand. The blood still stained the lines and the inside of his fingers but the wound was healed, only a faded pink line, half the size of the original wound, took its place.

Aragorn glared down at where the wound had been before meeting my eyes again.

"How did you-" He began but his voice faded into the warm darkness that filled the tent.

"A man visited me earlier today," I replied vaguely, "He told me just what I needed to hear," I paused again, realising that I hadn't moved back from where I stood, so close to the warmth of Aragorn.

"I was selfish not to have told you sooner," I added, "The reason that Saruman kidnapped me…it was to aid Sauron. My ability to heal, it is known as the light of Dylora…but it can be turned."

"You have a gift from the gods, Dren. There is nothing evil in what you can do," Aragorn argued instantly."There is evil in what I can do," I said bluntly, realising that Aragorn had to know everything upfront to understand the damage my power could do. "My touch can heal…but it can also bring death. If Saruman had managed to corrupt me, if I hadn't bargained with him for so long with the promise of other, powerful incantations, I would be one of the weapons of this war…and I wouldn't be fighting for the right side."

With this, Aragorn's hand left mine and he brought it up to graze the scar on my neck. I flinched away from the touch, my eyes falling to the ground. Aragorn placed his thumb beneath my chin, lifting my gaze back to meet his."Your scar, nor your past frighten me. I am not disgusted. I am honoured."

I stepped back from Aragorn, turning to face the flickering light of the fire."You ride into the mountain, I will ride with you," I said.

Aragorn said nothing, he just released a long breath of air and made his way towards the exit of the tent.

"I was honoured before you revealed your ability, Drendithiel," He said, his voice so gentle it struggled to keep myself from turning to face him."As was I, Aragorn." I replied in a whisper as he left the tent. Moments after his departure, I still found myself sinking into the comfort his warmth had brought to me. A man so honourable would have no use for a princess without a throne, nor an angel without wings.

I exited the tent, fully prepared for entering the mountain - or at least, I was as prepared as I could possibly be. I looked towards where Aragorn stood preparing his horse. I was about to walk towards him, but Eowyn beat me to it.

My stomach tightened and I let out a shaky breath, watching them talk to one another, knowing that something was between them brought sadness to my heart. I did my best to shake those feelings away, but as Aragorn spoke to Eowyn his eyes met with my own, a look of knowing past between us. I climbed upon my own horse just as Eowyn stepped back from Aragorn, she appeared stricken - by the look on her face, whatever news Aragorn had delivered, it happened been good. I watched as he kicked his horse to attention and road away, instantly I followed, cantering towards the path he had taken through the tents. My horse settled next to his and I turned to face him - he ignored my eyes.

"Eowyn cares for you," I stated quietly, knowing that I was treading outside of my rights.

"She cares for the idea of me," Aragorn replied, his voice gentle.

"And that is a bad thing?"

He released a long sigh as we rode, "She will find someone who can give her what she needs, that person isn't me." With that he looked towards me, causing a jolt of something deep within my chest. My stomach stirred and I had to force myself to look away from him."Just where do you think you two are off to?" A gruff voice stepped out in front of us both and we forced our horses to a standstill."Not this time….this time you must stay my friend," Aragorn said to Gimli with regret in his tone.

"Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas stated as he led his already saddled horse towards us.

"You might as well face it, we're coming with you laddie," Gimli added, moving closer to Aragorn before continuing, "You take the lass and not us?" Gimli grumbled beneath his breath, only just loud enough for us to hear. Aragorn smiled with acceptance and we made are way away from the camp and towards the narrow path, fear thick in the air.

_I hope that was to your liking, hopefully Drendithiel is as likable a character as I intend her to be and that you find her story intriguing. Let me know your thoughts, feedback is always appreciated, even if it's just to say you'll be sticking around until the next chapter!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Hey guys! Sorry this took ages, I've just got back home from New Zealand and have been so busy/exhausted! But it's here now, so enjoy! Thank you for all of the reviews, keep them coming!_

Chapter Nine

The gloomy canyon stretched far in front of us, darkness still clouded our vision as the silence surrounded us. Fear sat in my stomach, making me feel sick and on edge at the thought of what may be around the next bend in the road.

I followed Aragorn's lead, frowning up at the steep, dark walls of the pathway.

"You're frightened, I can see it in your eyes," Aragorn said, turning his head to look over to me. My hands gripped tighter around the reins of my horse and I did my best to look calm.  
>"Is it wrong for me to be frightened? In such a dark place?" I asked.<br>"You have reason to be frightened, Dren. But you are in safe hands, this is our last chance," He stated reassuringly and I nodded.

The light of day began to fill the doomed crevasse as we reached the entrance. We each stepped from our horses as we peered into the deep darkness filling the passageway.

"The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away," Gimli shivered, sounding as fearful as I felt.

Within the walls of the passage, writing covered the arch, I shuddered at the words that lingered there before speaking aloud, "The way is shut, it was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it. The way is shut," I stated. Almost immediately, a strong, freezing wind blew towards us all from the tunnel, I turned in an attempt to shield my eyes - my hair whipping ferociously around my arms and back. The horses bucked, rearing in an attempt to get away from the stench of death that flooded around us.

"I do not fear death!" Aragorn stated through gritted teeth, a determination in his voice that I hadn't heard before - he walked swiftly into the darkness. Legolas followed almost immediately afterwards, leaving myself and Gimli stood outside of the tunnel.

"Ladies first," Gimli grumbled and I found myself lifting my skirt in a mock curtsy.  
>"Why thank you," I stated sarcastically before entering the tunnel reluctantly, darkness swallowing me whole.<p>

I was pushed between both Aragorn and Legolas, Gimli trailing behind as we entered a huge cavern. I closed my eyes as I walked, trying not to look down at what my feet were crunching against. My breath must have quickened, as Aragorn reached back, his hand clasping around mine. He nodded reassuringly at me and I let out a shaky breath.

"I have never been exposed to death," I whispered to him, "Do not hold it against me as weakness, I beg you." Aragorn nodded and returned to face the front. We came to a standstill, the warmth of Aragorn's hand left mine and he illuminated the huge space with his torch. A shrill creaking filled the space and I found myself struck with fear, unable to move as I grew cold. The four of us were suddenly taken aback as a ghostly figure emerged from the blackened walls, his lifeless eye sockets burning into me, I stepped back without thinking, bumping directly into Legolas, who placed a hand on my arm for just a split second.

"Who enters my domain?" The ghost snarled at Aragorn, his voice bringing tears to my eyes.

I watched in fear as Aragorn moved bravely towards him, "One who will have your allegiance," He stated.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass," The king of the dead spat towards him.

"You will suffer me!" Aragorn replied, his jaw tense with determination.

A frightening laughter echoed off of the walls of the cave and I couldn't help but scowl towards the king of the dead.

"And a lady you have brought with you," The ghostly figure walked by Aragorn, circling me. I did my best to hold my nerve, standing strong so as not to appear weak. It was only then that the fog surrounding us began to clear, slowly and frightfully, ranks of ghastly soldiers riddled with death appeared.

"You look familiar," The king of the dead whispered ghoulishly towards me before he turned back towards Aragorn.  
>"The way is shut," He stated, the tone in his voice so chilling it halted my breath.<p>

"It was made by the dead, and it is the dead who keep it," The ghost continued, getting closer and closer towards Aragorn.

We were hopelessly surrounded by an army of the dead.

"The way is shut. Now you must die."

"I summon you to fulfil your oath!" Aragorn called, a sense of desperation in his voice.

I watched in horror as the king of the dead raised his rusting sword above Aragorn's head. Legolas shot an arrow towards the king, but it slipped through him without any impact. Stunned and panicked expressions were clear in all of our eyes. Before I could think about it, I released the chain from my arm, it flew relentlessly towards the ghostly figure, the metal clasped around his arm, whipping into the ghastly flesh that was left there. Everyone looked towards me from where I stood, the chain now connecting myself and the king of the dead in place.

"Drop your sword," I stated quietly, my eyes meeting with the dead king's.

His rotting arm reluctantly moved the sword down from where it had been lifted above Aragorn.

"None but the king of Gondor may command me!" The ghoul shouted at Aragorn - immediately, Aragorn's unsheathed his sword, the metal glittering in whatever light twinkled in through the cracks in the cave.

I whipped the chain back from the king, instantly it moulded itself back to my arm as the ghost brought his sword down against Aragorn's. A shocked look filled his expression as both swords met with one another in a heavy clang that reverberated against the walls of the cavern.

"It cannot be! That line was broken!" He yelled in reply - and I felt myself panic as Aragorn grabbed the king by the throat, his blade pressing into his rotting flesh.

"It has been remade!" Aragorn hissed.

Now silence filled the air, Aragorn released the king of the dead, stepping back to address the armies surrounding us.

"Fight for us and regain your honor!" He called out amidst the darkness.

"What say you?" Aragorn asked again as ghouls stared back, hollow eyed towards him.

Gimli groaned, "You're wasting your time Aragorn! They had no honor in life, they have none now in death!"

"I am Isildur's heir! Fight for me and I will hold your oath fulfilled. What say you?" Aragorn called again, ghostly laughter filled the air as the faces of the dead slowly disappeared, back into the darkened walls of the cave. It was then that the walls began to shake, a deep rumble replaced the silence as the floor started to give way beneath my feet.

"Dren!" I heard Aragorn yell as my feet fell away from me, my hands gripped to whatever they could, but very quickly, I was slammed against something rock hard. My vision blurred as the noise around me grew unbearable.

_Please review!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Here's the next chapter, enjoy it and please don't forget to review!_

Chapter Ten

A piercing shriek filled my head - a red glow blinding me. Fear built up inside me as the dark lord's voice filled my brain, it buried itself within each thought, each memory I had.

My father stood bravely in front of Dylora's gates as the armies of Sauron rushed towards him. His graying hair flowing in the wind, my four brothers by his side. Each of them showed no fear as the gates crashed towards them. They fought as best they could, my father was stabbed straight through the chest, before being stabbed again in the throat. Bold crimson ran down his neck, over his clothing - covering the pendant my mother had given him. He was left there, amidst the screams of my city as rubble from the houses that once stood proudly, crushed him. His deep blue eyes grew cold and empty, "Drendithiel," He whispered, the sound of his familiar voice ringing in my ears as he took his last breath.

"You will die, as did your father," The pure evil shrieked around me.

"I will not die by your wish," I tried to speak, but words were hopeless. He was in my head - he knew the fear that I felt, I had no chance to lie to him now.

"The Light of Dylora will be replaced by darkness and you will answer only to me. If you step close to this war, Drendithiel Valarian, I will have you as my own…pet. Yes, my pet. I will use you to kill your beloved man…" His hissing continued, "I will use you to kill the Heir of Isildur, yes," Sauron finished, the sound of his voice making me sick to my stomach, as it had done each and every time he had infiltrated my thoughts.

Before I had time to panic, I was shaken away from his words - my eyes opening to a golden light and the sound of waves lapping against the walls.

I gasped for a breath, the ache in my head causing my ears to burn as I gripped at my throat - the skin was in flames.

"You awaken," Aragorn's familiar voice filled me with a sense of relief and I couldn't help but throw my arms around his shoulders, tears fell from my eyes in quiet, breathless sobs. My hands tangled tightly at the back of his neck and in his hair as I breathed in the warm scent of his skin. Slowly, his hands pressed against my back as I cried.

"The sight of my fathers death will drive me to madness," I wept, "I cannot see so much death, so much defeat," My voice was muffled by his cloak and I pulled away from him, my eyes feeling puffy and blood shot.

"I am so sorry, Aragorn," I said, my voice dry and croaky.

"Do not apologise," He replied gently.

"No, you do not understand," I continued, "Sauron knows that you have arrived, that you are going to take back the white city."

With that news, Aragorn's eyes grew wide, colour drained from his face and looked towards the ground.

"I had no defenses, please understand this, if nothing else. I did not give up the information of my own will," I begged.

He took a few moments before he spoke again, his eyes met with mine as he stood from his kneeling position in front of me, "I am pleased you have awoken, Drendithiel." Was all he said before he turned from me, exiting the room and closing the door. I curled up on the makeshift bed, drawing my knees to my chest and I allowed tears to fall freely from my eyes.

I gathered my things, the Angainor Chain wrapped tightly around my arm, the horn of the huntsman hanging around my neck. I tied my hair into a loose braid down my back and changed into a pair of trousers and a white shirt - my only armor consisting of the pendant around my neck and the hope that no one would manage to get to me before the Angainor got them. I placed my sword in its hilt at my hip and made my way out of the cabin I had been in. The decks were empty, land wasn't yet in sight, but the scent of death was near.

I struggled to ignore the heat that built up in my skin as we got closer and closer to the battlefield. I looked off into the distance, closed my eyes and allowed the cool wind to blow over my face.

I was disturbed my footsteps behind me, a figure came to my side - but I didn't need to open my eyes to recognise who it was.  
>"I never said that I was going to be of great use in this war," I said quietly, "I only begged you to let me fight, so that I could die in the same way my family did. The same way my people died."<p>

"I won't let you die," Aragorn said, "Gandalf told me not to trust you, I went against his wishes. I have seen the gentle nature of your heart." He looked over to me, a calm expression on his face.

"Do you regret trusting me?" I asked, almost not wishing to hear the answer.

"I have said it before Dren," He paused, the slightest of smiles tilting the corner of his lips upright, "I trust you with my life."

Moments passed in silence as the waves rolled against the boat calmly, it was easy to forget that we may be sailing towards our death.

"I fear I must ask you one thing before we reach war, Aragorn," I began, turning my face to look towards him. He nodded in acceptance, a frown penetrating his brow.

"Does a woman wait for your return?" I asked, having to force my eyes to leave his as my cheeks blushed red with heat. A heaviness filled the air but I had no reason to feel guilty - I needed the answer, I needed to know if I stood a chance.

Aragorn sighed, a low, exhausted sound that made me chew nervously on my bottom lip as I waited for his reply.

"At one time, I thought I did," He began, his voice taking on a new kind of emotion, "No woman waits for me now, my heart holds no ties." His eyes moved down to mine and I exhaled in relief - until I thought of his words. His heart holds no ties.

I stepped back from my, folding hair behind my ear - the Angainor Chain tightening around my forearm as I moved, it seemed entwined with my emotions. Right now, I felt fear…the fear of what it was I was experiencing. What feelings did I have for him? Did my own heart hold ties to Aragorn?

"Your eyes speak of sadness," Aragorn's brow furrowed as he spoke.

I didn't know how to reply, how was I supposed to answer? I didn't even know what was tugging deep in my stomach every time he spoke to me, every time his eyes locked with my own.

"I feel like I owe you an apology," I began.

"For what actions?" He questioned, confused.

"You have no time for such trivial conversations, you prepare for war, for the death of your own men…and I converse with you as if the day is long and bright," I shook my head, struggling to believe my naivety. I stepped back more so from Aragorn, but this time his hand reached for mine, pulling me back to him.  
>"Dren," His voice wrapped around my name just as his hand held mine, and I felt a warm pull in my chest, a flutter of butterflies filled my stomach.<br>"You have taken me away from the darkness that fills my mind, even if just for a moment. For that you owe me no apology."


	11. Chapter 11

_Next chapter for everyone! Enjoy it and don't forget toreview!_

Chapter Eleven

The noise of battle filled my ears and I struggled to block out the thoughts of what was soon to become of me. I believed I had escaped the darkness that had surrounded me when I was freed from Saruman - but truly, Saruman was only the beginning.

I closed my eyes, clasped my hands over my ears and set my elbows on my knees. I tried to think of brighter days, but it was difficult. I thought back to time when my father was alive, when he would hold me at his hip as he worked, carrying me around the grounds of Dylora. He would pluck flowers from the gardens and wrap them with my long brunette waves. Tears began to fall from my eyes as I reminisced - the images of my beaten and bloodied father entered my mind, forever tainting the good memories I had of him.

I stood up at the loud clatter against the boat and yelling coming from the decks. I panicked, fear striking deep within me. I wasn't ready to fight, I wasn't ready for this. Aragorn opened the door to my room, closing it behind him he took me by both wrists, he bent down so that our eyes met clearly.

"Remember that you can fight, do not let fear stop you - use it, use it to make you stronger," He spoke softly, a sincerity in his voice that I truly hadn't heard from him before. I nodded silently in reply, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"I act girlishly, I struggle to push aside my morals," I spoke in a choked whisper.

"You must use the Valaroma, the Horn of the Huntsman will awaken your bloodline." I knew he spoke only kindly to me, trying to make me feel better but all the same, my fingers touched the edges of the horn wrapped over my chest. "You told me before, you are Drendithiel Valarian…you are no longer the princess of Dylora, but instead you are powerful. You seek revenge for your people, do you not?" Aragorn pushed, attempting to help me gather myself, and honestly, it was working.

"Promise me one thing," I sniffed back more tears, one of my hands slipped free of Aragorn's and instead, pressed against his chest. I looked up to him now, my eyes wide with fear.

Aragorn nodded before I spoke, "You won't get yourself killed." My voice sounded strong, not desperate as I had first expected it to.

He smiled, but there was sadness in the expression.  
>"I can promise nothing but to fight like Gondor deserves," He paused, noting how disappointed I looked before he continued, "I promise to return to you, if my body allows me to." He brought his hand up to cup my cheek, I leaned into the warmth his skin offered, closing my eyes for just a moment.<p>

I stepped back, sharing a look with Aragorn before I nodded. He opened the door allowing me to walk out in front of him. The Angainor chain tightened against my skin as I made my way to the front of the boat. I climbed up onto the bow of the ship, looking out over the enemies. I looked back to where Aragorn stood, himself preparing for bottle - he nodded.

I pushed the horn towards my lips, I took one, whole deep breath in - filling my lungs to the brim before pushing the air back out through the mighty Valaroma.

The sound was explosive. The armies on shore blocked the noise from their ears - this was our moment to strike. Each of us leapt over the edge of the boat towards the distracted orcs, war had begun.

My chain leapt from my arm as if it had been waiting for the action its entire ancient life. The heavy metal captured the necks of orcs, snapping them with the slightest maneuver from me. I ducked as it spun around me, not wishing to get caught in its wrath. I concentrated as the chain glowed a deep red under the heavy darkness of cloud, it was only this one distracted moment that cost me my first injury. An orc swung his dirtied sword towards me, it struck my other arm heavily, leaving a trail of crimson behind. However, just as quickly as the pain had been inflicted, the Angainor circled around me, catching the rodent at his ankles before coming down to strike his grotesque face. He lay motionless - the first death I had inflicted of my own accord. The armies of the dead were wiping out masses of orcs in a heavy wave of lethal weapons. My eyes caught in Aragorn's as he fought, for a mere second we shared what could possibly be our last words - even if they had been silent.

I advanced further onto the fields of battle, running past corpses of the warriors, it brought a sadness to my heart and a determination to the fore front of my mind. Quickly and surely, I sent the chain flying in a circle around me, clearing whatever enemy was about to strike. I closed my eyes, letting the chain do the work for me as I conjured up my only other weapon.

"An valar inflict tine tri mo, chuid fola, sruthan mo naimhde," _(The valar inflict fire through my blood, burn my enemies),_ I spoke, my scar began to burn as if fire was trapped beneath my skin, the Valar's power didn't react well to the evil that had inflicted it. My hands pulsed, my mind emptied and fire was brought upon at least 15 orcs within a general radius surrounding me. The fire continued to burn around me, it tickled at my flesh but made getting near me impossible for the enemy. I used the little time that I had to run to the nearest of the injured Rohan men.

I placed my hands to his injuries, forcing heat and rescue through my fingertips - forcibly applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding from his wound. An exhaustion took over me as the wound closed, the bleeding stopped and his eyes opened.

"You have one more chance, fight," I murmured, my eyes connecting on a deep level with his.

"Thank you," He replied, his formally still hand now clasping tightly around the sword he had fallen with, he stood shakily before gaining enough balance to continue. For a moment, I frowned - struggling to decide whether I had done him a favor saving him from death…or if I had just prolonged his suffering.

I continued my mission for as long as the fire surrounded me. The flames burnt only the enemies of the Valar, meaning that I knew truthfully if I was healing someone fighting for the right side - a handy tool on a battlefield of bloodied bodies, all looking as gruesome as the next.

I must have healed twenty men by the time the exhaustion took over. The fire was wavering with my lack of concentration and my only hope for staying alive was to draw my sword. The Angainor chain still whipped at enemies that gained on me - but even that was beginning to fail as I grew weaker, at best, it was now merely fending off the orcs, as opposed to really injuring them. It was then that my heart stopped - I froze in my place, staring towards the image in front of me.

A dark figure stood cloaked, his face nothing but a shadow against the actions of battle surrounding him. I knew then that the fall into darkness was beginning. The light of Dylora was failing - my scar felt as if it were spreading itself fully around my neck, it strangled me, forcing the air from my lungs in a heated grip.

"You have entered the fields of battle unprepared for what your powers can offer you, little bird," The ghoulish voice spoke from inside his darkened cloak.

"I will fight you with my last breath," I managed to mutter, but my voice came out in slurs. My knees gave way as the hooded man walked towards me, suddenly the title he had addressed me at seemed familiar, my stomach knotted at the thought.

"Morven?" I asked, my throat closing as the word released itself from my mouth, fear captured me as his armored hands reached to move his hood from his face.

The familiar raven hair and green eyes struck me deep in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I dropped my sword as his hand - covered in the sharp metal of the enemy, clasped around my throat, dragging me up to face him - my feet only just touching the ground, I hung there like a rag doll.

"Little bird, look at you. So weak and powerless…yet so filled with possibility," My brother spoke through gritted teeth…but soon, as his eyes met my own, his expression softened.

"I have been demanded to give you just one more chance," Morven smiled cruelly.

"One more chance for what?" I spat, the sounds of the war around us seemed to disappear until it was just me and Morven. My beloved brother. The brother that had comforted me when our mother had died…the brother I had trusted with my life.  
>"One more chance to use what you have, or lose it," His grip remained tight around my throat, loosening only enough to allow me the slightest breath of air.<p>

"You cannot take what was never yours to have," I replied gruffly and with that he pushed me back down to the ground. His hand clasped around the hilt of his sword, he pulled the weapon from its hold - proudly displaying it in front of me.

"Look at you, the Angainor wrapped so solemnly around your arm, your little sword lying so limply on the ground…the light of Dylora," He scoffed those last words, "The descendent of angels," Morven mocked further before continuing. "The daughter of kings," He stated the last with enough disgust to choke on, his once sweet, handsome face contorting into the evil he had become.

I crawled back from him, tears welling in my eyes - I tried to build my strength but I was too slow. I stood, just barely - my five foot frame coming no where near his 6 feet…he shadowed me in darkness.

"You killed our father," I said quietly, "Didn't you?"

With that, Morven's face twisted into a grotesque smile and instantly I knew my fate.

"Your father was a preacher, a man who didn't even have the strength to take the throne that belonged to him. Instead, he spent his days behind closed doors, telling whoever would listen exactly what they were to do," Morven said with disgust, "Your father was a failure." He finalized.

"Our father," I highlighted, "Was a man of peace and honesty. You taint the name he gave to you," I shouted, attempting to send the chain flying towards Morven…but it wouldn't move.

"I am not a little orc for you to play with, Dren," Morven stated confidently, "I am your blood, your flesh. We are the same, little bird. Me and you, we could have this land as our own. This world is ours, I have seen it…Dylora will stand, it will grow, but not as it was once known. The dark lord has shown me what will become of our city and it is powerful. It is feared and it is beautiful," Morven's eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't put my finger on. I frowned in disbelief as to what he had become.

"Dylora," I began, struggling to stand, "Dylora is mine to claim and you're right…it will stand and it will be powerful. But it will not be tainted by your evil. It will stand as it stood before, in peace and honesty. In the way the Valar intended it." My statement didn't stand well with Morven and his sword came crashing towards me at lightening speed. I ducked, falling to the ground as I gripped the handle of my fallen sword. I brought it up to meet Morven's just in time, saving myself from decapitation.

I rolled over, managing to muster enough strength to hoist myself back to my feet. His sword crashed again to mine as we battled indefinitely against each other.

"The Valar intended nothing for our family, Dren," Morven yelled as his sword clashed with mine solidly, allowing him to move just inches from my face.

"The Valar intended something for you," He hissed bitterly as I struggled against his strength, I couldn't keep his sword steady in front of us for long. Beads of sweat ran in chilling lines down the back of my neck as I tried to remember who my brother used to be….I couldn't. He would never be anything to me, not anymore.

He was dead to me.

And then he moved…and the weight of his sword became too much to bear, my strength gave way and the point of the cool metal pressed tightly at my chest. My sword fell from my hand as Morven gripped me with his other hand by my hair.

"Beg me for your life woman, and I will offer you some salvation," He spat at me.

"I beg for nothing."

With that, I closed my eyes, preparing for the burn of his sword against my flesh.


	12. Chapter 12

_I cant believe I haven't updated this in so long! The story is finished now, so I'm picking up where we left off and plan to continue to update regularly. I hope you enjoy! And please do review, if there is any of you out there!_

Chapter Twelve

I searched for the pain of his blade, nothing had yet struck me. Instead, I was staring up into a darkened sky, the dark cloud over the dawn like ink staining paper. The sound of battle soon filled my ears again, I rolled, reaching for my sword before I stood swiftly to my feet.

Morven had been pushed back and was in battle with another, a man, his height towering even above Morven's - his dark hair and clothing soaked with orc blood as his mighty sword came down against my brother. I reached for the knife strapped to my leg, pulling it from its holster, my hand slipped with sweat on the fine leather handle. I closed my eyes, breathing for just a second before exhaling shakily. I lifted the weapon back it was a heavy wait in my trembling hand. Closing my eyes, I threw it at Morven - the blade hit him directly in the centre of his back and he came to a standstill. His movements paused, his metal gloved hands reaching back for the blade, but struggling. Aragorn's eyes met mine over my brothers shoulder and I stood, speechless…motionless as Morven, as if it slow motion, fell to his knees.

My better instincts took over, suddenly, as his cloak fell back over his shoulders and his arms grew limp, he was no longer the enemy…but my brother. I rushed to his side, Aragorn stepped back, confused as to whether he had played a part in my distress - until he was sidetracked by an on coming enemy. Aragorn fought in the background as I kneeled by my dying brother's side. I pulled my knife from his back and Morven rolled over, I cradled him, his green eyes met mine deliriously. My own tears fell onto his dirtied cloak and I shuddered at what I had just done, my stomach ached, my chest sunk in dry sobs.

"I'm sorry," I whispered through tears, my hand tracing my brother's face.

Morven struggled to form words through his dry mouth, his voice came out a mere croak, "Heal me, if you are sorry," He stated.

I shook my head, allowing myself to collapse against him, "I cannot, Morven."

My hand gripped harder around my knife and I brought the tip up to his chest, aiming it directly over his heart.

"I cannot," I whispered, Morven's eyes grew wide with fright and I pressed down on the blade, instantly, Morven jolted, drawing in a sudden breath of air…his eyes connected with mine the entire time, until there wasn't anything there anymore. I sobbed, momentarily forgetting everything that was going on as I tried my best to convince myself that I had done the right thing. Hadn't I?

I didn't have time for thinking, as I stood, unarmed and distressed, I was struck. The sword broke through my shoulder, the excruciating pain took over me and I gasped for air…just as my brother had done seconds earlier. The weapon was pulled from me, leaving me to stand long enough for the chain to escape my arm and strike whoever had inflicted the wound. My hand reached up to the wound, my fingertips were quickly flooded with crimson as I grew numb. I myself, found that I was falling to the ground heavily.

"Dren!" A voice echoed in the midst of the warriors and my eyes roamed in the hope that I would be rescued. Just as another pain struck me, an arrow penetrated my stomach, tearing at the flesh.

"Dren!" The voice sounded a second time and I looked up as I fell onto my side, my face meeting with the cool mud as I struggled to breathe. I watched as the orc that would deliver my death prepared another arrow but just as he was about to fire, Aragorn stepped in front - this itself hurt more than my wounds and I reached out to him.

"Dren, stay awake, stay alive," His voice filled my head again and he appeared at my side. The arrow had hit his arm and he acted as if he hadn't noticed as he shielded me from any further injuries.  
>"My brother," My voice croaked as I did my best to point a finger in the direction of Morven.<br>Aragorn's eyes widened, guilt filled them and I couldn't bear to look at him anymore.

"Bury him," I pleaded, "Please."

My eyes flickered open, light shone in through windows and it blinded me. I was alive. I was alive. Alive.

"Do not try to move," His voice was gentle and quiet. I noticed the warmth of his calloused hand on top of mine and I turned to face him - the movement in itself caused pain to shock every muscle. Aragorn stared back at me with saddened eyes, I wished I could reach my hand to stroke his cheek, to comfort him, but my shoulder ached with every breath.

"You were hurt," I replied, my voice hoarse.

Aragorn's lips turned up into a sympathetic smile, "You escape death just merely and you worry for my injuries."

I swallowed, trying to clear my throat but struggling.

"Here," Aragorn said, his hand reaching behind my neck, he lifted me only slightly before raising a cup of water to my lips. The liquid coated my throat and mouth in a delicious moistness and I exhaled heavily in relief.

"I thought you would die," Aragorn said suddenly, "I was stupid to presume that your powers would give you some kind of…" He shook his head in regret.

"Some kind of shield?" I continued on his behalf, Aragorn shook his head in reply.

I laughed, but no humor was intended, "Because I can heal others…my defenses are lower. I cannot heal as fast as others; I cannot recover from illness as others can. I am weak."  
>"It was stupid for me to presume such a thing," Aragorn cursed himself, his hands leaving mine - allowing my skin to grow cold and lost.<p>

"Be quiet," I demanded, my voice still soft but a little sterner. Aragorn looked back towards me.  
>"Wakening to see your face, to feel your skin," I began, grateful tears flooding my eyes, "It is all I had prayed for. Do not take it from me."<p>

He seemed immediately apologetic and his hand reached to cup my cheek before he reached over the bed, his lips pressed gently to my forehead, allowing himself to linger for a moment, I closed my eyes.

Aragorn stepped back, sitting back down at my side again, his hands still clasped around mine.

"I must leave you," He spoke solemnly and I frowned.  
>"What do you mean?" I questioned.<p>

"We march upon the Black Gate," Aragorn replied, "We plan to empty Sauron's lands, make Frodo's journey as easy as possible, give him more of a chance."

I frowned, thinking about what he was telling me - or more importantly, how he had told me. He must leave me.

"I will ride with you," I stated with a frown but immediately Aragorn began shaking his head.

"You are too weak to do so, Dren. You wouldn't stand a chance in your current state."

I grew angry and saddened by his reaction and had I been able to stand, I would have walked out, leaving him alone.

"When do you ride?" I asked.  
>"Tomorrow, at dawn."<p>

"I will be ready, I will march with or without your permission to do so. I care for you, that doesn't give you the right to order me about like your woman," I scowled, pulling my hand from his - however his grip tightened and my eyes shot to meet his.  
>"Do not do this for the sake of being proud, Drendithiel. You have been injured mere hours, you've only just awoke," Aragorn pleaded desperately but I was having none of it.<p>

"The ride will be weeks long, two at a swift pace. I will have time to heal as we travel."

"You will die in this fight," Aragorn's voice lowered and he studied me with desperation shining in his expression.

"I will do nothing of the sort," I smiled, reluctant to take his advice or accusations on board.

"I beg that you change your mind," He whispered, glancing over to the next bed. I followed his gaze, a man lay there, he began to stir from sleep as if disturbed. The white tree of Gondor patterned his tunic.

"I will visit before nightfall," Aragorn stated, standing from where he had been sat, "Rest." With that he nodded, leaving the infirmary

I was left to ponder my next actions, I found myself in the same predicament I had been in since I was rescued from Saruman. Fight for Dylora, or surrender for Aragorn.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Aragorn didn't make it back before nightfall, instead, I pulled myself out of bed. It took me 30 minutes to manage to pull on the long pale dress that had been left by my bedside. I was disturbed in my escape just as I had built up the energy to move away from the bedside.

"You should not be moving so soon," Eowyn's voice sounded as she entered, her own arm was bandaged and captured in a sling.

"I must prepare myself for the next battle," I winced as I moved, the wound at my stomach felt as if it may tear open at any minute.

"You're crazy," Eowyn shook her head, but her eyes never left mine.

"I heard what you did, the witch king," I smiled, "It was very brave of you."

Eowyn scoffed, sitting herself down slowly in one of the broad chairs by the beds.

"I too heard what you did," She paused and I frowned in confusion, "Managed to fight off one of Sauron's right hand men…and then you were stabbed by an orc," She didn't laugh, but humor was evident in her tone.

I raised my eyebrows in question before scoffing in disbelief, "You mock my efforts?" I asked.

"No…" She began, "I mock your lack of concentration."

With that I burst into laughter, only for it to come to an abrupt stop when the pain in my shoulder and stomach shocked me.  
>"You fought bravely," Eowyn clarified, her voice now more serious.<p>

"As did you," I nodded.

"Did you hear about Theoden?" Eowyn asked quietly, her eyes filled with sadness. I could only bring myself to shake my head in reply.

"He has passed on to his fathers," She spoke, but I couldn't bring myself to answer. I filled with grief, tears stung at my eyes and I found myself sitting down on the bed once again, gripping at my stomach in pain.  
>"I am so sorry for your loss," I managed to croak, my voice almost non existent.<p>

"I am sorry for yours," Eowyn replied, attempting to shake the tears from her quivering voice.

I walked towards the hall where the voices were the clearest. I opened the door with a struggle, one hand still clasped tightly around my stomach as I limped over the marbled floors.

All eyes moved towards the footsteps, each of the men looked in disbelief towards me.  
>"You should be resting," Aragorn was the first to speak, moving over to me he set his arm around my waist and I winced as he helped me to the nearest chair.<p>

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf's voice was clear as he moved around Gimli to get closer to me, "You took some heavy injuries, your body needs time to repair itself." Surprised by the concern in Gandalf's voice, I frowned.  
>"You find me worthy of your conversation now Sir Gandalf," I smirked.<p>

"You fought for us…you saved many of the good men whom had fallen. You have earned my respect," Gandalf replied, his lips only lifting at the corners slightly - I nodded in thanks.  
>"What are you doing out of bed lassie?" Gimli questioned.<br>"I came to tell you that I plan to fight," I said, my voice growing louder as I tried to make myself sound sure of my choice.

Worried glances passed between the men in the room and I scoffed apathetically.

"I survived the last battle, what's to say I won't survive this one?" I smirked, but confidence abandoned my expression.

"Dren, you aren't fit to fight," Aragorn said, his shoulders sagging in exasperation.

"I will be in two weeks," I replied sternly, "In two weeks I will be able to hold my sword just like any of you."

"Your choice isn't a wise one, our numbers are low," Gandalf interrupted.

"I understand this, I've grown to enjoy a challenge."

"If the lady wishes to fight, she shall fight," Gandalf finalized, turning his back to wander away from me.  
>"It's suicide," Aragorn interrupted.<br>"For Drendithiel, perhaps it is suicide. Perhaps for us all," Gandalf stated, "But she could save many lives."

"She will save no ones life if she is dead," Aragorn scoffed, his brow heavy with anger.

"This battle acts as a distraction Aragorn, we do not set out to win. We set out to lose many lives. Your idea of a distraction will lead men to their deaths, allow Dren to exercise whatever heroic ideal she has going on in her mind."

"Excuse me," I broke into the discussion, standing weakly from my seat, "I have no heroic ideal in my mind, I understand the reasons for battle, I understand the consequences. I am committing to the same suicide that any of your men are…what is the difference if I am already injured? Or weaker?" I argued.

"So it'll be," Eomer spoke up, sitting himself down in one of the large chairs. I watched as Aragorn shook his head, a humorless smirk playing on his lips.

"So…certainty of death, small chance of success. What are we waiting for Dren?" Gimli grinned, rubbing his hands eagerly together.

I settled in one of the rooms in the main tower, it was a relief to lie down on the soft cushions. I was only just falling into sleep when a light knock on the door disturbed me. I opened my eyes to the moonlight that shone in through the window.

The door opened and Aragorn entered slowly.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," He said, his voice heavy with stress as he closed the door behind him and sat down on the side of the bed. I shimmied myself up, pain radiated through my muscles as I moved and I exhaled in relief as I reached my desired position.

"Not at all," I replied, "I hope that you're not here to try and change my mind again."

Aragorn shook his head, "I had hoped that you'd have changed it without me."  
>"No such luck," I smiled sympathetically.<p>

"I come to you with a question on my mind," Aragorn began.  
>"Question away."<br>"I must ask you about your brother." With that, my heart sank. I had hoped to skip over this conversation even though I knew how ridiculous it was to expect that Aragorn wouldn't ask questions.

"Morven," I began, "My second eldest brother. Before you ask, he was never a dark man," I paused and looked to the ground, "As a brother, I loved him. He was my family and I presume I will never know what caused him to change so suddenly."  
>Aragorn nodded thoughtfully, "Hadn't you dreamt that your father and brothers had died?"<p>

"The first premonition was through the Palantir. From then on I have relived those images in my nightmares."

"I am sorry to bring up such a topic," Aragorn sighed, his hand gracing my cheek lightly, "Sleep now, I will call on you in the morning."

"Do not try to leave without me," I replied, "I will hunt you down," I smirked, only half jokingly.

Aragorn smiled, relieved at the recovery of my sense of humor.

"Goodnight, Dren," He spoke softly as he exited my room.

I fell into a deep sleep almost immediately, but my peaceful slumber was only to be interrupted by nightmares.


	14. Chapter 14

_So glad there's still people reading this, I'm still writing about 6 chapters in advance so there's plenty more to come. Keep reviewing!_

Chapter Fourteen

The light of the dawning sun filtered in through the windows, gently awakening me. I pulled myself out of bed with a struggle, my wounds were more painful than they had been yesterday, I pressed my hand to my stomach - where the arrow had penetrated the flesh. Blood was reddening the area around the stitches and I winced. As much as I hated to admit it, riding was going to be difficult…I was trying my best not to even think about how I would manage to fight.

I dressed quickly, my chain slinked itself around my arm protectively and I smiled, sometimes I forgot that the metal wasn't a living thing…even if it did seem to have its own personality at times. The long dress I pulled over my head was a dark royal blue in color, the fabric thick and warm, a quality I'd need in the coming weeks of travel. I walked down towards the main hall slowly, putting most of my weight on the wall beside me. I jumped when an arm circled around my waist, I turned to see Legolas leading me carefully down the stairway.  
>"You frightened me," I laughed.<p>

"You should not be wandering around unattended, your injuries are still fresh," Legolas replied.

"Is everyone ready to leave?" I questioned.  
>"Yes, the men and horses are readied, Aragorn requested I retrieve you from your room, but it appears you already beat me to it," Legolas smiled reassuringly and I couldn't help but join him.<br>"I must ask," His voice began again, this time filled with seriousness, "Are you sure that you wish to continue?" His perfect brow wrinkled as he spoke.  
>I let out a long, careful sigh and I contemplated my answer, "Last night I dreamt again, for the hundredth time, about the death of my father and brothers. Two days ago I killed one of the brothers I believed to be already dead. My city lies broken on the green lands it formally flourished. All hope of repairing my kingdom is gone," I spoke quietly as we came to a standstill just before the entrance to the hall.<p>

"I am certain that this is all that is left for me, injured or not, I will do what I can to help."

Legolas nodded with a look of understanding, "Even Aragorn could not stop you?" He asked and for a moment I was taken aback by his bluntness.

"Pardon?"

"You care for him, do you not?" He asked again.

"I do," I replied, my voice but a whisper.

Before Legolas had time to speak again, the doors opened and Gandalf appeared, hurriedly he took my weight from Legolas.

"Go prepare yourself, we leave momentarily," Gandalf nodded towards Legolas and he left, glancing at me quickly before he walked off.

"Come," Gandalf assisted me outside, towards a large grey horse that stood proudly in the damaged courtyard.

"This horse is for you," Gandalf stated and I ran my hands down the animal's soft hair.

"He's beautiful," I smiled, the animal reminded me of the fine horses of my city. The horse glanced over to me, his eyes were dark but gentle.

"Accept him as an apology," Gandalf began and I couldn't help but study him, confused, "I ordered Aragorn not to trust you, I believed you had already been infected with the evil that spreads through this place, I was wrong."

"I appreciate your apology, but it is unnecessary."

"Heal as many as you can, these men have been ordered to protect you as best they can in war. Look out for them and they will look out for you, that is the key to your survival," Gandalf said, his voice filled with wisdom.

"A fine horse," Another voice appeared from behind us, I turned to find Aragorn walking over towards us. My eyes widened and I couldn't help but allow myself to smile. He wore his armor proudly; the white tree of Gondor was emblazoned across the fine metal.

"Thank you," I nodded, Gandalf walked away quietly, leaving my self and Aragorn to speak.

"You surprise me," I began wistfully "You are beginning to look like a king."

Aragorn's eyes left mine, a hint of sadness hidden within them.

"You must name him," Aragorn's hand brushed the horses white mane and he shook the hand away before nudging at me with his nose, I couldn't help but laugh.

"He knows his owner," Aragorn smiled, looking over to me.  
>"He will come to know you too, I'm sure," I replied "I have no name for him," I added.<p>

"A strong animal deserves a strong title," He added.

I thought for a moment, struggling to think of something worthy, "Silmaril," I smiled.

"The gems of the crown," Aragorn spoke "A good choice." 

I packed all of what I'd need onto Silmaril and prepared to leave. Aragorn helped me onto the animals back, the pain of the motion bringing tears to my eyes.  
>"You are still too weak to ride," Aragorn stated, his brow furrowing.<p>

"I can manage." I cursed myself for not sounding more convincing.  
>"He is a gentle animal, Aragorn," Gandalf's bellowing voice sounded as he made his way around to us on his own horse. "He will look after her."<p>

"You will ride by my side," Aragorn said to me quietly, I nodded almost reluctantly. I had never wished to act as a distraction, but it appeared that that was what I was becoming.

The sky was dark and the air cold. It was growing more and more difficult to stop myself from shivering as I rode. A thick blanket was already covering my shoulders, but I was struggling. I tried to fight back the panic that was itching at the forefront of my mind, but I was failing.

"We will stop for the night just west of here, the men need to rest," Aragorn's voice sounded from beside me, it carried out over the small army that followed him. I found a sigh of relief escaping me at his statement.

"You too need rest," He said to me, his voice now quiet. I found that every time he spoke to me, his voice took on a gentle hue - perhaps he feared me too delicate to be treated as just another warrior.

"Stop worrying about me," I replied.

"If I do not worry about you, who will?" Aragorn asked, his eyes meeting mine as our horses slowed to a walking pace, leaving others to overtake us.  
>For a moment I was stumped, I couldn't decide whether to be saddened or amused by his statement…it turned out I didn't need to make that decision, as the sadness was already clear in my expression.<p>

"I need no worry wasted on me," I said quietly.

"If your father or brothers were still alive, would they agree with you, or me?" He added and I found myself taken aback. I didn't know why he was bringing up my family now, after everything we had spoken about, surely there was little need to begin a discussion as we rode to war.

"They would agree with you," I smiled in defeat and Aragorn nodded.

We were brought to a standstill soon after our discussion, I sat upon Silmaril, unable to move as every motion shot pain through my stomach and shoulder. Aragorn walked towards me, but was stopped by Gandalf, who blocked his intervention.

"One thing you should know about this horse," Gandalf began, both myself and Aragorn watched him in confusion as he stroked Silmaril's mane.

"Dren, what is the Dylorian word for 'kneel'?" Gandalf asked, causing my brow to furrow.

"Gluine," I replied, but the word was almost immediately interrupted by the kneeling of Silmaril. He fell to his knees in a graceful bow. Gandalf's lip twitched into a proud smirk.  
>"He is a capall ciallmhar," I grinned.<p>

"What does that mean?" Aragorn asked, the horse still bowed to the ground.  
>"A wise horse," I said with a smile. Aragorn walked towards me, helping me off the lowered animal, he set me gently on my feet.<p>

I tied Silmaril up near where my tent had been fitted and allowed him to eat and drink - he gave me a thankful nudge with his silky nose and I smiled.

"Enjoy," I mumbled, placing a light kiss on the animals long face as my hand scratched behind his ear.

"Am I interrupting?" Aragorn asked as he appeared from behind me, an amused smile played on his lips.

"Very much so," I mocked.  
>"Your wounds will need tended to," He said, holding up his hands that were filled with supplies. I nodded, taking note of his change in attire. No longer was he made up in the armour of Gondor, but instead was back to how he looked when I first met him. Dirtied riders gloves covered his hands, he wore heavy boots and a long dark over cloak. I sat down on an abandoned log that lay strewn in front of my tent, he followed, sitting close beside me.<p>

His fingers moved the material of my cloak gently from my shoulders, it fell heavily to the ground.

"May I?" Aragorn asked in a low mumble, his eyes signaling to the ties on my dress. I blushed, my own fingers untying the thread at my neckline so that the shoulder of my dress slid down over the bandaged wound. Immediately, the paleness of my skin was illuminated beneath the moonlight. Aragorn's calloused hands gently peeled the bandage from my skin and I looked away, wincing.

"It's no surprise the stress of the journey hasn't helped you heal at all," He frowned, shaking his head, "It has barely stopped bleeding."

I glanced towards the wound and scrunched up my nose at the sight. The bloodied outline of the swords blade was clear, it would leave a nasty scar…just another to add to my growing collection.

"Silmaril is gentle, riding will not halt my healing," I reassured.

"As gentle a creature as he may be, the stress is too much."  
>"It is," I agreed but my words were meant for him, our eyes locked as his hand paused on my shoulder - soon it began to move around to the back of my neck, his thumb drawing comforting circles over the skin.<p>

Before I was able to stop myself, my lips crashed eagerly to his, for a moment he seemed stunned into stillness…until I felt his lips part against my own. A feverish rhythm took hold of us as he pulled me closer to him, the pain of my injuries was lost against the passion of our embrace…until suddenly, I was cold again. The heat from his body had disappeared and the comfort of his arms gone. He looked at me with regret in his eyes and I felt embarrassment flush my face, anger bubbled deep within me - stealing away whatever distraction may have been present.

"I'm sorry," Aragorn said, his voice painfully quiet.

"So am I," I replied, my eyes never leaving the ground.

"It isn't," He began, but I stopped him, shaking my head.

"Leave me," I stated, when he didn't move I found my voice rose to a shout, "Leave me!" I repeated.

And sadly, he listened to me. He turned his back to me and walked off towards his own tent, leaving me to sleep alone. It was only when he had disappeared that I was filled with melancholy. He didn't want me, this was clear…but it wasn't that which hurt me so deeply, but instead it was the thought that I wanted him as much as I did. It was my desperate need for him that caused me to begin packing my things and untying Silmaril from his post.


End file.
